


troubled spirits on my chest, where they laid to rest

by Yevynaea



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Alternate Universe, Blood, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family, Flashbacks, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Minor Character Death, Murder, Non-Graphic Violence, One Shot, Organized Crime, Panic Attacks, Short One Shot, au notes - angus' bio-fam is the fantasy mafia, but part of a bigger au that i wILL finish more fics for eventually, i can't believe shrug emoticon isn't a valid tag, only referenced really, that's all you need to know my friends, very very implied
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-03-08
Packaged: 2019-03-28 13:51:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13905357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yevynaea/pseuds/Yevynaea
Summary: Angus is panicking. He has enough presence of mind to realize that, to know that he shouldn't be breathing so fast, to recognize that the hands grabbing at him are meant to be a comfort-- but realizing he shouldn't be breathing so fast, shouldn't be flinching away, just makes the panic worse, building in his shaking body until the hands recede and a voice breaks through the fog.or, the one where our good detective boy has a past both tragic and criminal.





	troubled spirits on my chest, where they laid to rest

**Author's Note:**

> too many of my fics have 20 miles of friend-group-discord-chat context behind them, but really the only context necessary for this is that the McDonald clan is/was an organized crime Family, and Angus left home and became a detective basically to get out of the family business.

Angus is panicking. He has enough presence of mind to realize that, to know that he shouldn't be breathing so fast, to recognize that the hands grabbing at him are meant to be a comfort-- but realizing he  _ shouldn't  _ be breathing so fast,  _ shouldn't _ be flinching away, just makes the panic worse, building in his shaking body until the hands recede and a voice breaks through the fog.

“It's okay, mijito. It's okay. I'm right here.” Taako’s voice is as soft and as serious as Angus has ever heard it. “I'm right here for you.”

Angus reaches out blindly, eyes shut because he doesn't want to see it again, doesn't want to see what he's done-- and familiar arms wrap tight around him, pull him close to Taako’s chest.

“Breathe, kid,” says Merle’s voice, off to the side, and Taako shushes him but starts breathing deliberately deep and slow so that Angus can match it.

There are footsteps: Magnus, leaving the room, calling something over his shoulder about finding a blanket. There's a small scuffling noise: Merle stepping forward. One of Taako’s arms moves, reaching, then pulling back, slipping something into his pocket when it's handed to him. Angus doesn't care quite enough to really wonder what it is.

 

\----

 

Angus is panicking. He drops on instinct when a hand touches him, curled up tight, knees and arms protecting his head.

“Get up, Angus,” his father sighs. Angus doesn't know if he can. “Come on, get up.”

A familiar hand grips his arm, pulls him to standing, doesn't hold tight enough to bruise but doesn't let him turn fully away from what he's done. Something in the wet grass glints, in the light of his father’s torch, and Angus focuses on it, trying to block everything else out, compartmentalizing by only thinking about what that shiny thing might be.

 

\----

 

It's probably his wand, he realizes at some point. He dropped it, after casting. Merle must have picked it up. Taako must have slipped it away, out of sight.

 

\----

 

It could be a coin. Too small to be a pocketwatch. A locket? It could be a locket. It's a very pretty shade of gold-- the parts of it that aren't coated in blood.

 

\----

 

“You okay there, boychik?” Taako asks, still holding Angus close, and it's been  _ minutes _ , at least, but he's just been breathing, waiting for Angus’ shaking to subside.

“Yes sir,” Angus replies.

 

\----

 

“Good job, son,” his father says. When Angus doesn't respond, his father sighs again, irritated, then kneels down, turning Angus toward him, forcing eye contact. “You're still young, but you're a McDonald. As the head of this family, I expect my orders to be followed. You know that. Our business is important, and you're a part of it. So this,” he pauses, gesturing to the body on the ground, its throat still bleeding into the grass, “is something you need to get used to, sooner rather than later. Understand?”

Maybe the gold thing is just a coin, after all. Angus’ father shakes him, getting his attention back. “You understand me, Angus?”

“Yes, sir,” Angus manages.

 

\----

 

“The first is always hard,” Taako says. Tries to make it sound like he's joking, but the humor falls flat. Angus pulls back, making himself turn, feeling almost relieved when the body is now hidden under a blanket, as Magnus promised earlier. Angus stares at the shape of it for a moment-- examining how it fell, eyeing the weapon still loosely held in its hand-- compartmentalizing by pretending he's the investigator of this case, and not the killer. Then he reaches into his pocket, fingers running over a smooth-worn gold piece.

“He's not my first.”


End file.
